Love, Lies and Skooma: Rashiid's Tale
by Magnum Umbra
Summary: Rashiid had everything he ever wanted. Now, his world has come crashing down. How? Read and find out! First fanfic I've ever written! Reviews and the like welcome! enjoy.
1. Exile

This is my tale, my name is Rashiid. I am what the imperials call Khajiit. I wish to tell you of my fall from grace. How I became a husk of a man. I tell you this in hopes that I may prevent you from making the same mistakes.

I was born a noble of Elswyr. I had everything that I could ever and I was happy. I spent many a day warming myself in the amber rays of the sun, and spent many a night entwined in the sheets with beautiful women. Greater than my carnal lust was my unquenchable thirst for knowledge I studied all manner of things: alchemy, martial arts, and Magicka and I even learned to pick a lock or two. Then one day, my father Jiraan summoned me to his chambers. He said that while I had performed well in my duties as a student, I was still not a man of the world. He asked that I journey to Cyrodiil. When I refused to leave, his Akaviri guards dragged me from the castle. I was but 16 summers of age. His last words to me were that I was not to return under pain of death for 5 summers. His guards spirited me away to the border of our country in a wagon driven by lizard mounts which the khajiit call Q'entadi. I was thrown rudely from the carriage. I stood from the ground and brushed myself off. Thankfully my father had arranged for an escort of sorts Unfortunately, the escort was in the form of gruff Imperial rangers who could not have cared less for my noble birth. They were there merely to point me in the direction of the road to Bravil and then they rode off to fight crime, rape churches and burn women or whatever in Oblivion those bastards do in their free time.


	2. Of Bandits, Bravil and Bad Fashion

**Sorry about the shortness of the last chapter, but I wanted to publish something :p**

**Reviews, flames and whatever else you can think of are welcome. I just want to know if anyone actually reads this.**

**)0( **

The trek to Bravil was exhausting to say the least. Not to mention boring, I am all for walks in nature, but the fact remains that going literally for hours without seeing another creature I have never felt such immense fatigue in my life, not even after sparring for two hours against one of the Akaviri guards of the palace. He started it, but I ended it. I remember it clearly

The sun was brilliant that day and I was in the courtyard of the palace. The birds were chirping, their lovely melodies were music to my ears as I sat reading. The bliss of this moment was disturbed by the entrance of one the guards of the palace. His name was Tsaari, we had grown up together but that doesn't mean we liked each other. To the contrary, we were bitter enemies.

"Hey, fur ball!" the guard hissed "shouldn't you be off licking your ass or something?"

"I have much better things to do than toy with you Tsaari, you glorified worm"

" A sharp tongue you have, perhaps I shall cut it out and do us all a favor."

"Tsaari, I don't want to fight but I will tell you this, slimebag! If you do not stop, you will leave me no choice."

"You are as boring as your mother was last night, and twice as ugly!"

"Very well, I will enjoy draining your blood into the sands!"

"Here, kitty, kitty, kitty!"

What followed was the longest fight of my life. Tsaari and I blocked the doors so that no one would interrupt our grudge match. The first hour was fought armed. With neither of us able to so much as nick the other, we threw down our weapons in favor of unarmed combat. The man-snake was a worthy opponent, but in the end I prevailed battered, bruised and broken. The two of us unblocked the doors and then, Tsaari bowed to me. I cannot express how deeply honored I was by this. Since that day, Tsaari and I have grown close. Tsaari even told me good bye on the day of my departure.

I walked for hours. When "escorts" abandoned me it was high noon. Now the sun was setting and the sky was a brilliant scarlet. After walking for some time, I came upon a small pool of water, crystal clear and refreshingly cool. While drinking I was assaulted by a spriggan which I beat to a pulp...three times. Night fell quickly, and still I trekked onward.

Presently, I came upon something that chilled me to the bone. A group of bandits were partying and drinking...right in my path. I had no choice, leaving the road meant certain death at the hands of the ravenous mountain lions that roamed the place. I had to be stealthy. Unfortunately, sneaking about is not my strong suit. (I know I am a pitiful excuse for a Khajiit) Also, I tend to have the worst luck in the Planes when it comes to "do or die" situations. The latter quality decided to showcase itself when I, scaling a tree in an attempt to literally pass over them, fell quite conveniently into the middle of their camp.

"What in oblivion was that?" said a rather ugly Nord

"I didn't hear anything." replied a surly Breton woman, (clearly drunk)

"Neither did I, Jerald is probably just tryin' to get out of the drinking game. He's prolly too full to drink another pint. Therefore, said a Redguard of enormous size, I win!

Luckily, they were more drunk than sanguine at an open bar and I was able to scuttle away unseen. Sadly, I was not so lucky a second time. I was continuing along the well worn road when I heard the sounds of a rider coming my way. Foolishly assuming that the approaching horseman was a real form of escort arranged by my father, I did not dive into the bushes like a frightened squirrel. If I had, perhaps the events that transpired would not have. The man on the horse was no guard. He was a Khajiit of fit build and towering height with fur black as the void. Perhaps if I had not been a noble, I may have been spared, but the clothes on my back betrayed my high birth and thus these things occurred:

The man dismounted his horse and walked toward me. He strode towards me the cool swagger of an assassin who has cornered his mark and the sheath at his belt told me of the consequences of not complying. I had no weapons on me and I could not overpower him. his jade eyes revealed the truth, he knew it. I stood my ground, tensing my legs, preparing to run.

"It's no use, don't run. Hand over your money and your clothes and I won't hurt you. However, if you resist, I will kill you." he said

"I'll have you know that I am a noble and my escorts are prepared to kill you should you threaten me. Now I will give you one chance to leave me in peace."

"If you have a team of guards following you, why are you trembling? Why are you ready to run? Face it, you are alone and afraid. Now, surrender your valuables, cur!"

My pride again got the best of me and I rushed forward to attack. However, unlike my battle with Tsaari, I lost. In one smooth move, he dodged my jab and punched me in the gut, knocking the wind from my lungs. Then he brought down a heavy blow on my head; everything went black.

When I awoke it was daylight. The sky was bleak and gray. Rain was falling heavily and I was drenched. As I grew more aware I realized something else, I was naked. Bravil was in sight and I hastened there. At the gate, the guards gave me many bizarre looks, wouldn't you if you saw a bruised drenched Khajiit claiming to be a noble from Elsewyr. The guards told me that they couldn't admit me into the city in my present state. Apparently, even Bravil has its standards. Heh!

The guards gave me clothes that would make me more decent. Right, to be honest I think people would rather look at my naked body than the rags that they supplied me with. I have seen prisoners with better clothes. The shirt that they gave me had no sleeves. Also, it was so moth-eaten that I felt like I was wearing fishnet the color of vomit. It even smelled of fish. The pants they gave me were as bad, they were tight and the knees were ripped out. There were curious sweat stains on the crotch and they were a hideous mauve. And the only pair of shoes that the guards were able to find were knee length boots that were common among highway men. Something in me believes that they planned this. Fishnet, leather boots, hideous tight pants, sweaty crotch, I shuddered when I realized what I had become. It was obvious, I was a prostitute. Oh Mara help me!

In spite of my "comely" appearance, I was allowed through the gate. I was now in the city, great! Hmm, what can I eat for the amount of money I have? Oh, that's right, the crazy buff panther freak stripped me and took my coins! Hmm...given my present circumstances I can eat the scraps of the local inn. I mean, once they're in the bins they're the public's property. Where can I board for free? Oh of course! On the cold ground, next to the stinking sewer pits that also serves as Bravil's water supply! What more could I ask for? The answer: a lot.

First of all, the ground is far from suitable for sleeping on. It is so waterlogged that upon waking, my clothes and fur are caked with mud. Where can I wash off the mud? Why in the combo well/poop tank of course! For the record, the water smells like a corpse left in the sun, next to a pile of silt strider droppings that have been peed on by a scamp! So, day after day I emerged from the black soup, becoming exponentially more malodorous each time.

As for what I lived on, the answer is simple: not much. It came to my attention that everyone in Bravil is evidently anorexic. I was starving, I was actually contemplating eating the rats that gathered every day to drink the putrid waters, or maybe it was just to watch me bathe. I was a bit of a masochist , I watched the patrons of the Silverhome on the Water eating their meals. All the time pretending that I was in their places. On the sixth day I finally decided that I would fulfill the age old stereotype and resort to thievery. I found a small wire in a crate outside and bent it into a pick, My lock picking skills were very good but, as I've said before, my stealthiness leaves something to be desired. I spent the night in jail for breaking and entering. I think the reason the owner woke was my moans of pleasure at eating food for the first time since my departure.

The night in jail was good for me. Firstly, the city gave me a meal and a place to sleep and more importantly, it was free! Perhaps I would break the law more often. I had a cell mate, a wood elf named Valen who taught me much in the ways of stealth and taught me how to pick pockets. I don't think that any part of my education was as important than what I learned in the short time in the cell. Unfortunately, I never got the chance to repay him. He was executed publicly after my release. I watched. His last words were the cryptic phrase "Ave Sithis".

The words haunt me as I write this, for I feel that whatever their meaning, it is something of a sinister shade. After Valen's execution, I realized exactly what was at stake if I were caught; It really forced me to see the tragedy of my situation, I was here, penniless, without a friend or food and if I attempted to return to my former life, I would be killed. I resolved to survive for no other reason than I wanted to prove to my father that I was strong.

My further escapades were much more successful. I never forgot what Valen taught me and I moved through the town like a ghost, a shade. I also became an experienced pickpocket. Often, my victims never realized what happened to them and those that noticed kept quiet because of the ancient Khajiit power of terrifying others with a glance. Later, I made sure that they forgot with simple memory altering illusion magic.

It was during one of my nocturnal scroungings that I met a cruel mistress in the form of a small bottle of liquid. I was taking food from a rather high end house when I noticed it sitting there all alone. I thought it was a commonplace bottle of water. Upon drinking it, I felt elated and my heart raced. It was like a ton of moon sugar had been dumped into my blood I was promptly arrested on exiting the house. The guards told me that what I had drank was skooma and my cell mate told me that it was made from moon sugar, he even gave me the address of a local den. Skooma huh, I could get used to it.


End file.
